


Inked

by Jaamesbbarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Soft Bucky, Tattoo Artist Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 19:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaamesbbarnes/pseuds/Jaamesbbarnes
Summary: Your friend drags you to her favorite tattoo shop for you to get a tattoo. Little did you know she set you up with your high school crush, James Barnes





	1. Meeting

“Come on, I’ll pay you a month worth of that weird Starbucks drink you love so much! Every day for the next four weeks!” you whined, rolling your head back when your friend Nat, short for Natalia, shook her head no. The taunting smile on her lips making you regret you ever befriending her.

“Too late, Y/N, you said you would get a tattoo so you’re going to get a tattoo. End of the discussion,” she chuckled, popping a bubble with her chewing gum as she took you by the wrist to make you cross the road faster. You let out an exaggerate groan that covered her taunting laugh.

If Nat hadn’t had been your best friend since elementary school, you probably would have ran away in the opposite direction but, unfortunately for you, she knew where you lived. “Did you bring your drawing?” the redhead asked, letting go of your wrists once you were on the other side of the road. You knew by the mischief sparkling in her eyes that you were approaching her favorite tattoo shop.

“Of course I did,” you scoffed, looking at Nat as if she had grown an extra head. If you had to have something inked on your skin forever, you’d rather have a drawing made by you and not some kind of stranger. “Are you sure they’re good, though? I don’t want them ruining it.”

Your evident nervousness made Nat sigh and loop her arm in yours. “Y/N, honey, Steve and his friend are the best! I only go see them since they opened their shop last year. And you love my tattoos, right?” She inquired, almost challenging you. Gosh, she could be the most annoying person you ever met when she tried hard enough

“Of course I do! Except for that spider tattoo on your shoulder! It’s so realistic it gives me the creeps!” you shuddered in disgust and shrieked when Nat pulled down the collar of her sweater to show you the tattoo.

“It’s not real, Y/N!” she laughed heartily.

“But it’s disgusting! You know I’m terrified of those!” you bit back, waiting for her to cover her shoulder again. Your friend snickered and pulled her collar back up, shaking her head affectionately at your childish behavior.

How you two had managed to keep your friendship intact for all these years was a mystery to you. You and Nat were total opposites. When she was bold and outgoing, you were terribly shy and introverted. Few were the people around whom you were able to get a little loose, it was usually your family or yours and Nat’s very restricted group of friends. But other than that, you were happy with bare minimum interactions.

As you recovered from your previous fright, Nat started squealing, “oh I’m SO excited you’re finally getting a tattoo! I promise it’s going to look amazing! Steve and Bucky are the best!”

You hummed, not really convinced. “I’m sure they are,” you sighed, trying to keep your composure but the tension that had been building in your system for a couple days had now reached its peak when you caught a glimpse of “Brooklyn Ink” right around the corner.

Nat wrapped her arm around your shoulders to help you relax. “Are you sure you don’t remember them? They were in high school with us! Steve, super popular guy who tend to get in a lot of fights? Bucky was more discreet though, always brooding around. Which remind me of someone,” she teased.

You knew she was trying to keep your mind off the tattoo but there was something else behind her words. You knew her enough to know she was up to something. You huffed and nudged her, unable to hold back the chuckle that fell from your lips. “That’s rude! And I don’t brood, nor I remember them. I didn’t really pay attention to people in high school,” you rightfully reminded her.

“You and your tendency to hug the walls,” she rolled her eyes. “But don’t lie to me, I know you had a thing for that guy in your art class, what was his name again?” She asked, quirking her brow at you.

You felt your cheeks blushing to the mere mention of you art ”partner”. James Barnes. You sighed in defeat not to ever had the guts to talk to him. You knew his name from the teacher taking the roll to which he’d usually mumble “here” without looking up from his sketchbook. You used to shared a large desk, a couple glances and bashful smiles when they teacher started being weird again but, to your dismay, nothing more.

Thankfully enough, James never caught you shooting glances his way when you took a minute to admire his sharp jaw, baby blue eyes or the messy nest sitting at the top of his head. The poor boy was probably as shy as you, it was rare to see him holding up a gaze. Every time your eyes met, he’d sent a boyish smile your way, the kind that made butterflies fly around your stomach and your cheeks go warm, before looking down at his sketch again, nervously tugging on his left sleeve.

It was a bad habit he had. Whether he was snowing or that the pavements were melting from the heat, James Barnes always sported a long sleeve shirt that usually was two sizes too big for his lean form. You remembered people talking about him having been in an accident when he was younger so he was covered in scars, especially his left arm. Once, someone even mentioned self harming. You’d never forget the cold glare he shot to the girls who were sitting at the desk behind you.

“Y/N!” Nat snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your trance. You shook your head.

“Yeah, no, I don’t remember who you’re talking about!” you blurted out, your eyes going wide when you realized you were in front of the tattoo shop.

“Yeah, sure Jan,” she chuckled, giving you her famous ‘I can read through your shit’ look before placing her hand on the door handle. ”Ready?”

“Will I ever be?” you sighed, faking a dirty look her her. Nat winked at you before opening the door and gesturing you in.

When you stepped in, you were welcomed with some indie rock songs softly playing in the speakers but not loud enough to cover the low buzz of the tattoo machine coming one of the studios on your left. The walls were made of faded red bricks and the floor was covered in dark tiles, creating a somehow comforting atmosphere thanks to the warm colors. 

Behind the counter, you could see a wall covered in artistic pictures of tattoos and as your eyes roamed over the photographs, you realized, each one was more beautiful than the last. And, if knew nothing about tattoos, but you knew enough about drawing to distinguish between two different styles.

You were so lost in your contemplation, you hadn’t noticed the blond man drawing at the desk behind the counter from which only a little clump of hair peeped. “Hi, Steve,” Nat greeted him, leaning on the counter, catching both yours and his attention.

Steve’s face immediately lit up when he recognized who was standing in front of him. “Hey Nat! Long time no see, how are you?” he asked, obviously genuinely happy to see your friend who was now more than a regular costumer. “I don’t remember seeing your name on the schedule,” he added as a matter of fact.

Nat chuckled and it didn’t take long for you to realize that the reason your friend was so much into tattoos had probably more to do with the tattoo artist himself than his work, now matter how good he was. How could you blame her, though? With his broad shoulders, blond hair and darker beard, Steve was a very nice specimen to look at. “I’m alright! And I’m here for my friend actually, I had James on the phone.”

Steve eyes landed on you and the warm smile he shot your way was almost able to make all your nervousness vanish away. There was something incredibly soft and reassuring about that man. You waved awkwardly in his direction and Steve quickly looked down at the schedule. “Y/N?” he asked.

You nodded, “that’s me.”

You noticed Steve’s gaze scrutinizing you and you looked at Nat, confused, feeling your nervousness growing back again. The redhead shrugged. “Weren’t we in high school together?” he asked, the knowing smile tugging at his lips confusing you even more.

“Um, Nat told me we were but I don’t remember, I’m sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, hating this kind of situation even though they didn’t happen a lot. You had always been a wallflower, people usually hardly noticed you. You felt your cheeks growing warm under Steve insisting look.

“Yeah, I think I remember you. Very discreet, you liked drawing too, right?” You were astonished that Steve would remember you so well when you had never talked to him before. But you nodded and smiled at him. Right at the same time, a door on your left opened and you could hear a guy warmly thanking someone. You hadn’t even noticed the buzzing had died down a few minutes ago.

“Come back in a month for the touch up, alright, Wilson?” you heard coming from the studio before seeing a man walking out with a clear plastic wrap peeping from the collar of his shirt.

“Thanks, man!” Wilson said before walking to Steve and shaking his hand, “don’t expect me at the gym this week!”

”The things you’d do for me not to beat your ass,” Steve chuckled, earning a heartfelt laugh from his friend. You couldn’t help but smile as you stepped on the side to move from his way.

“Ladies,” Sam greeted you before walking out of the shop.

Steve eyes fell on you again and he placed his elbows on the counter. “So, do you know what you want?”

You nodded, “yeah… um, I drew this a couple years ago,” you opened your bag before pulling out a sketch and extending it in his direction, “and I’d like it on my collarbone, I think,” you said, a little unsure. You didn’t like showing your drawings to people, even less to someone who might judge it.

Drawing had always been your thing and you hated having to share it with anyone else. It was your shelter when life got a little too hard, when you wanted to avoid having to talk with anyone else, it was your way to express yourself without having to use words. The only person who saw your drawings was Nat and only because she had the tendency to snoop into your sketchbook when she’s bored.

“Alright, that sounds doable,” Steve looked back at you, smiling wide, “It’s a pretty neat drawing. I’ll bring it to Bucky so he can prep the stencil. In the meantime, feel free to use the bathroom and drink and eat a little something.”

Steve disappeared, leaving you alone with Nat and you looked at her, panic clearly visible on your face. “Y/N, breathe, it’s going to be alright! Here,” she pulled a snack bar and a bottle of water from her purse before extending them in your direction. “Eat, drink, breathe, okay?” She smiled encouragingly at you.

You nodded, shakily taking the items she was handing you. Despite you torn stomach, you managed to eat half the bar and take a few sips of water. You were about to give them back when she shook her head. “Bring them with you, you might need it.”

Your eyes widened in panic, “you’re not coming with me?!”

Nat stepped closer and placed her hands on your shoulders, “I’m not allowed in, it’s not sanitary and our chatting might disturb Bucky. We wouldn’t want him to mess your tattoo, would be?” she smiled, rubbing your upper arms soothingly. “It’s going to be alright, I promise. Bucky is really gentle and nice and you won’t even realize what’s going on before it’s over. I’ll be right here, okay?”

“Y/N?” Steve called you, causing your heart to leap out of your throat.

“Oh god, I’m gonna be sick,” you muttered.

“You got this, Y/N, come on! Just picture how beautiful the result will be” she encouraged you.

“Yeah, if that Bucky guy doesn’t fuck it up,” you mumbled, earning a heartfelt chuckle from your friend.

“She won’t, come on. Trust me on this, you might even ask him for more,” she winked. Again, her tone made you understand she had something up her sleeve and you snorted ungracefully, squinting at her.

But you eventually nodded before taking a shaky deep breath when she offered you a wide grin. “Okay, I can do it,” you breathed out, turning around in direction of the studio.

“Atta girl,” Nat playfully smacked your ass, laughing when you glared at here and you walked past Steve to join Bucky in his studio.

The blond smiled warmly at you. “It’s going to be alright, don’t worry. And if you change your mind, tell him, we understand,” he encouraged you, placing his hand on your shoulder and you offered a weak smile in return.

You stepped in the studio and looked around the room as you quietly closed the door. “Hi,” you said softly to the dark haired man who was leaning over a desk, his back facing you. From what you could see of him, his hair were long enough to be brought into a bun at the base of his neck. His grey t-shirt highlighted his muscular back and shoulders that were as broad as Steve’s, if not more, and his left arm was entire covered in tattoos.

“Hey, I’ll be with you in a minute,” the soft voice coming from him clashed with his impressive built and melted in the quiet music playing in the room. You recognized your favorite song, resulting in you immediately relaxing.

The walls were entire covered in sketches of tattoos and a soft smile tugged at your lips as you walked around the room to admire them. You loved his drawing style, you immediately recognized some sketches from the pictures that stood out the most to you in the other room. But, weirdly enough, a few of the drawings seemed awkwardly familiar and you wondered if you had seen these tattoos on people on the street because you didn’t recall seeing them in the shop.

You were too focus on one specific drawing to hear the still squeaking behind, indicating you that Bucky had turned around and was now looking at you. “I drew that in high school, not the most representative piece of work,” Bucky said behind you, causing you to smile softly as you eyes kept roaming on the walls.

“I kinda like them, especially this one,” you pointed at the sketch, “it looks familiar. Did you tattoo it on someone?” you asked without turning around.

This time your heard the stool squeaking at the shifting of weight and footsteps behind you. Even without turning around, you felt Bucky’s figure towering above you. “No, not that one. It’s a personal drawing.” The voice sounded deeper from up close, somehow almost familiar. Maybe it was because he was speaking almost directly into your ear but you most certainly didn’t miss the shiver that ran up your spine.

You could almost hear him frowning in confusion and you turn around to apologize and compliment him on his skills when your heart leaped out of your throat as you were met with a pair of too familiar blue eyes. It was as if someone had knocked the air out of your lungs and you froze in shock. James. Or Bucky? You didn’t know anymore. But that Bucky guy looked a lot like James. Yes his frame was much larger, his hair longer and now he looked more like a man than a boy. But those eyes were the same, your recognized them at the way the long forgotten butterflies started flying around your stomach like they used to.

You were so lost in your confusion, you didn’t notice Bucky’s eyes widening and his lips parting in surprise. It was you. It wasn’t just someone with the exact same name that had made his heart beat an extra beat when he had booked the appointment for you, it was you. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Nat had told him and Steve that she used to be in high school with them even if she didn’t talk to them back then but Bucky didn’t recall anyone from high school except Steve. And you.

You, the girl he had been dying to talk to for the three years you had spent in the same art class but his shyness kept him from doing it. Bucky’s cheeks turned an oh too familiar shade of pink at your proximity and he immediately stepped back, only realizing now he had been holding his breath since you had turned around. “Hey,” he said softly, fighting his urge to look away like he used to.

His voice somehow brought you out of your trance and you realized you were staring at him. You mentally cursed yourself and cleared your throat to try gaining your confidence back. “Hi, sorry about that. It’s just… you just look like someone I used to go to school with,” you muttered, offering him a shy smile.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when he realized you remembered him and his lips curved into a wide smile that warmed you up from the inside. “I think that’s because we used to have art class together, that’s when I drew that,” he chuckled nervously, pointing at the drawing behind you.

The exact same smile he was offering you suddenly tugged at your lips and you blinked a few times, trying to understand what was happening. “James?” you asked, slightly breathless.

His first name falling off your lips caused his heart to beat faster in his chest. “That’s me,” he chuckled, his right hand reaching for the back of his neck, “but I mostly go by Bucky, only teachers and my mom call me James.”

“Sorry,” chuckled, looking down at your feet.

“Oh no, please, don’t apologize! It’s alright,” he assured you. “I’m surprised you ever remember me,” he admitted.

You nervously brought your bottom lip between your teeth to gnaw on it as you lifted your head so your eyes could meet again. “We shared a desk for three years, of course I remember you,” you said because “I had the worst crush on you and I think I’m falling for you all over again” sounded a little too straightforward. The genuine smile that danced on Bucky’s lips was enough to send your heart on a rollercoaster and, from that moment, you knew you were still in too deep.

Years had passed since high school, you both had grew up. Bucky wasn’t lean anymore, he was muscular, impressive even. His jaw was somehow even sharper and his cheeks were covered in a week old scruff. Bucky was now a man. A very very gorgeous man. Yet, behind his impressive built, you could sense his signature shyness was still lingering there. His eyes were kind and gentle and, despite having gained a few pounds and some confidence, the old James was still here.

“We sure did,” he said softly, his eyes roaming your face in the most delicate ways and, for a second, you were threw back ten years in the past. “I… um, I prepared the stencil for your tattoo if you wanna check it before we get to work?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt your nervousness turning into excitement. Bucky was talented, you knew it and even if today you exchanged more words than you did in the three whole years you had class together, you trusted him with your drawing. You walked in direction of the desk where he showed you the drawing and, without surprise, it was the exact same replica.

“It’s perfect,” you smiled at him and the proud way he beamed at you in return made your heart beat steadily in your chest.

“Good, let me prep the chair. You can take off your coat and sweater and hang it there,” he pointed towards the coat rack behind the door. You inhaled sharply, suddenly realizing you will soon have Bucky in your personal space, face dangerously close to yours and your breasts. But you couldn’t back away now. So you nodded and walked to the coat rack to take off your clothes, happy you decided to wear a tank top underneath your sweater to keep you warm today.

When you turned around, Bucky had just finished cleaning the chair and was laying a sheet of paper towel on the leather seat. He turned around and you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over your body once you were not hiding behind your sweater anymore., nor the slight twitch of his lips. “Take a seat, I’ll prep everything,” he said, gesturing you towards the chair.

After struggling for a while to find a comfortable position without tearing the paper towel, you started observing Bucky prepping his equipment, disinfect every surface, wrapping everything in plastic wrap, piling compresses, pulling different heads for the tattoo machine out of their blister.

Despite feeling his eyes on you, Bucky was imperturbable. His motions were clean and calculated. It was almost soothing to see how automatically he was operating, sign that he had experience and he knew what he was doing.

When he pulled a pair of black latex gloves up his hands, his eyes fell on you again, bursting out the comforting bubble surrounding you. “I’m going to clean the area before applying the stencil,” he explained, knowing it tended to relax people to announce what he was going to do beforehand.

“Okay,” you breathed out when he gently grabbed a bottle and a compress. A not so pleasant alcoholic smell assault your nostrils but the second you felt the latex on your skin, you were more aware of Bucky’s touch than anything else. He smiled softly at you, painfully aware of your pounding heart beneath his fingers so he did his best to focus on his motion rather than your eyes piercing through his soul.

Very delicately, he placed the stencil paper on your wet skin and smoothed it with his fingers, maybe applying pressure a little more longer than necessary but, after all, you were not supposed to know what. After pulling the paper off your skin, a satisfied smile crept up his lips and he handed you a mirror for you to check the spot and drawing.

“Tell me if you want me to angle it differently or move it on the side,” he insisted, knowing that once he started, there was no turning back and he wanted it to be perfect.

You looked at the drawing on your skin and your lips curved into the widest smile, excitement rushing through your system because as you saw the lines covering your skin, the last tiniest doubts you had completely disappeared. “No, it’s perfect like that,” you assured him.

Bucky let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled at you, “then let’s go.” A jolt ran up your spine when he turned on the machine, the low humming making your skin tickle in anticipation. You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s lips twitched up when he turned the machine on, the sound still as exhilarating for him as it was the first time he held the machine in his hand.

Bucky leaned closer to you, gently tugging on the cable of the tattoo machine to allow him more liberty movement and he looked at you. “Absolutely sure? Once I start, you don’t move from this chair until I’m done,” he asked, offering a lopsided smile that was made to relax you but somehow it also sent a shiver running up your spine.

“Certain,” you chuckled. He nodded muttering an “alright,” before leaning close enough so his left hand was gently tugging at your skin to smooth it down. The needles pierced through your skin and, if the first seconds hurt, it didn’t take you long to get used to the sensation. Or at least, you got used to Bucky’s warmth against yours and his face so close you could feel his cologne tickling your nostril. It was intoxicating.

Every time he pulled away to gather more ink, you felt your heart clenching from the loss of his proximity. Fuck you had it bad. After having studied every single inch of his face, your eyes traveled to his left arm that was holding you in place. His tattoo sleeve consisted in several of the drawings you had seen on the walls merged together in a harmonious whole with pops of color here and there that stood out amongst the darker shades.

Even through the ink, you could make out the scars people often talked about behind his back. You heart clenched in your chest to the memory of his cold glare and people who were afraid of him, as if a scar was contagious. Maybe if he hadn’t had these scars, he would have been more open to people, maybe he would have been a little more like Steve? But you liked him that way.

You liked him when he was an awkward teenager who shot bashful smiles your way and who drew his fears away. You liked when he saw you struggling with a pen that had dried out from overuse and that he pushed his pen case in between you two without looking up but that his cheeks took the most endearing shade of pink.

And now you loved that Bucky had turned his biggest complex into something beautiful. He appropriated himself his scars and turned them into art. You smiled softly, your fingers twitching to trace the lines of his tattoos, so lost in your contemplation you didn’t hear Bucky stopping the tattoo machine to change the needles.

The brunet was looking a you. If at first he almost flinched when he realized where your eyes were, he quickly relaxed when he noticed you admiring his artwork more than you were disgusted by the scars. You were looking at it with an artistic eye and he felt his entire body coming alive under your soft gaze.

“As much as I loved the car accident story or also the weirder ones, I’m afraid the real version is less entertaining,” he said, bringing your attention back to his face and you felt mortification distorting your features. You opened your mouth to apologize for having stared at his arm but he beat you to it.

“Boiling oil,” he said, causing you to close your mouth, “my grandma was watching over my little sister and I. She was deep-frying apple fritters for us when she turned her for a second. My little sister was a toddler at that time and she wanted to help so she climbed onto her baby walker to try grabbing the pan handle. I just had time to push her away before the oil poured onto my arm.”

You were struck by how distant he looked as he told you the accident, a sad smile dancing on his lips, as if it had happened in another life. “Oh my god,” you muttered, “I’m sorry, about the accident and for having stared, I didn’t mean to… I was really just admiring your tattoos.” You explained, shame tugging at your heart.

Bucky smoothly changed the needles before looking at you and, as strange as it seemed, you saw no annoyance or anger in his eyes. “I know, but I wanted you to know the truth,” he said softly.

You frowned, “Me, why?” you breathed out, slightly confused.

Bucky shrugged, shooting a lopsided smile your way, “because I always kinda liked you and I didn’t have the guts to tell you the truth back in the days so now is my chance.” He punctuated his surprising declaration by turning on the tattoo machine again, leaving you completely aghast and your face burning.

Too astonished, you didn’t even feel the needles poking your skin again as the shock had numbed every brain cell and nerve you owned. “Close your mouth, doll, you’re tickling me,” Bucky chuckled. You complied, your heart pounding furiously under his hands as you tried wrapping your head around what he had just confessed to you.

“Did… did it hurt?” you asked after a few minutes, feeling like the silent was oppressing you.

Bucky’s smirk widened, “what when I fell from heaven?” he teased and you couldn’t surpassed the heartfelt laughter that ran past your lips. Thankfully enough, Bucky had had the reflex to pull the tattoo machine away from your skin to avoid any catastrophe.

“No,” you snorted, ”I mean, the accident. It must have hurt.”

Bucky shrugged, “honestly I don’t remember much, except for Becca’s crying and my grandma calling me in panic, I don’t know. The tattoos hurt, though,” he said, pointing at his bicep, “especially this one.”

Your eyes fell to the tattoo and you smiled, “isn’t that the drawing that caused you detention because you were not following the teacher’s instructions?” you chuckled, remembering the one and only time Bucky had ever clapped back at a teacher.

The brunet laughed heartily at the memory, “good lord, you remember that? Yes it was! I had to apologize formally to get that drawing back.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I remember! You had to write a letter!” you laughed.

“God, I hated that teacher so bad but her classes were still my favorite,” he sighed, his shoulder shaking softly from the chuckle that was running past his lips. His intense gaze on you indicating you he didn’t only mean the class.

Your lips twitched into a bashful smile, “mine you,” you admitted, fidgeting with your fingers. His previous confession was still ringing loud in your head, “I kinda liked you too, you know,” you muttered.

The smile that spread on Bucky’s lips was so wide and genuine, you swore it reached from one ear to the other. “You did?” he breathed out. You bit your bottom lip at the underlying hope in his tone and nodded.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. God, why did you have to be so bad at interacting with people?

You didn’t hear Bucky’s breathing hitching because of the tattoo machine buzzing away in his hand but you did hear him clearing his throat. “Would you like to go out with me sometimes? I know this place that serves the best burger that has nothing to do with that McDonald’s shit.”

It was your breathing’s turn to hitch at his proposition, the boyish smile he was shooting your way making your heart beat unevenly in your chest again. You didn’t think much before nodding, “yeah, that sounds great. I’d love that, James. Sorry, Bucky!”

Bucky shook his head, “you can call me James, I kinda like it coming from you,” he admitted, his cheeks going red again and you chuckled.

“Okay, I’d love to go out with you someday, James,” you smiled.


	2. Failed Date

To say that you were nervous would be an understatement. You actually were on edge. Because, after weeks of postponing due to unexpected meetings at your work or projects that took longer than planned, tonight you were finally going on a date with Bucky.

You both had managed to finally find a free night so he could take you out to that restaurant he had been ranting about. And, despite having kept in touch by texts since you visited him at the shop, you hadn’t seen Bucky ever since.

As stupid as it sounded, you couldn’t help but wonder if he still wanted to take you out, maybe he had changed his mind? Maybe he had found someone way prettier and more interesting? Maybe he had just pitied you that day? Each of these questions were usually answered with a very ungraceful and even more inhuman groan from Nat.

The redhead kept reminding you that he was the one who actually asked you at, asked for your phone number, showered you with messages that were more and more sickenly cute with each day that passed. “The guy is head over heels with you, Y/N. You should be the one taking pity on him.”

You snorted and glared at Nat through the mirror as she lied on your bed, going through one of your numerous sketch notebooks. You could guess by the slight twitch of her lips that she just stumbled upon the blue eyes and long locks you might have drawn a couple times here and there.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, hoping to put her attention somewhere else. You friend lifted up her gaze to you who had just turned to face her. Her smirk turned satisfactory and she finally closed the notebook.

“Of course I am, come on! The poor guy is going to melt the second he sees you. What is there not to like here?” she quirked her brow, giving you an appreciative one once over. The dress she had helped (forced) you choose highlighted all your assets in a very classy way. Giving a hint of what there is to discover but not to much.

“I don’t know, we’re going for burgers, not to the White House,” you argued, not remembering the last time you had worn something so beautiful, or even why you had bought that said dress in the first place.

Nat sighed heavily, bringing your pillow to her face so you wouldn’t hear the muffled obscenities. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her behavior. The poor girl had been dealing with your anxiety since you left the tattoo shop, then when he canceled (of course he canceled, why would he want to go out with you?), I then when you had to cancel (he was going to hate you and ask you to delete his number for sure), and now that the date was approaching it had gotten worse.

Which was unfair in a way because Bucky had been nothing but an actual sweetheart. He had even asked you if you wanted him to bring you food at work when you had to stay late instead of going out with him. You couldn’t count how many times people had suspiciously eyed you when you grinned or giggled at you phone at one of his cheesy lines.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry!” you chuckled, wobbling your way to your bed, why did heels had to be so unsteady? You grabbed the pillow and pulled it off your friend’s face, gasping when she offered you a toothy grin. You smacked the pillow in her face, your collective laughters filling the room until the doorbell interrupted you.

The blood must have drained from your face because Nat immediately stood up to put your hands on you shoulders, “hey, breathe, it’s going to be alright, okay? You’re both gonna have fun and be disgustingly cute and make everybody around you throw up. And if not, then you’ll have the best burger of New York for free,” she winked, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“Okay,” you sighed out, nodding eagerly to give yourself some courage. She squeezed your shoulders before gesturing you to walk to the door. You were not quite sure how you managed to make your way there but, soon enough, your hand was on the handle and you pulled the door open.

Bucky’s head immediately snapped in your direction, his mouth opening to greet you but he found his mouth going dry when his eyes landed on your form. He was too aghast to notice your eyes were wide in surprise. In his black dress shirt and pants, hair pulled back in a tighter bun than in the shop, Bucky was breathtaking.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, offering you a wide smile. He was surprised his brain cooperated enough with him to speak because, no matter how hard he prepared himself, no mental picture could do just to the sight you were offering him.

Your lips immediately curled up into a smile as you met his eyes and you did your best to cover how flustered you were. “Hi,” you answered, equally as breathlessly. It was Nat muttering in Russian from behind the door that brought you out of your daze.

“We should-”

“You look-”

You both cut mid-sentence when you realized the other was talking and you fell silent for a few seconds before a soft chuckle ran past both your lips. “You look amazing,” Bucky said quickly, his warm smile making your entire body warm up.

“Thank you, you cleaned up pretty nicely yourself,” you smiled, trying really hard to ignore Nat giving you a double thumbs up.

Bucky’s cheeks sported the most endearing shade of pink at your praise and thanked you. You grabbed your displaying nothing but affection. You couldn’t help the nervous giggle that ran past your lips.

“Ready?” he inquired, the underlying eagerness in his tone making your heart beat an extra beat. You nodded, grabbing your purse on the table near the door. Nat had forbad you to take any jacket so Bucky could either lend you his or put his arm around you if you got cold. If you fell sick, she would be the one doing your chores for a months, she had been warned.

On the way to the restaurant, you and Bucky had immediately fallen into a conversation. You two had so much in common, it was definitely a shame that neither of you had the guts to engage conversation back in high school. Whether it was serious or light matters, you shared many common opinions, which made discussion flow so easily you noticed for how long you had been walking once you were in front of the restaurant.

It was a well known place in the city, they served the best quality burgers in the entire state. You were surprised Bucky had even managed to book a table here. The brunet opened the door for you, gesturing you in with a playful bow. You chuckled, shaking your head affectionately at him before walking in, Bucky hot on your -too high- heels. It was apparently another technique to have him giving you his arm. Gosh, you knew nothing about dating.

You walked to the desk where a waiter was nose deep in his tablet, barely paying attention to you. Bucky cleared his throat, forcing the man in front of you to finally look up. “Hi, I have a reservation under the name Barnes.” No matter how much Bucky was smiling at him, the waiter did not look emotionally invested in anything around him.

Very slowly, you swore you heard him sigh, the man looked down at his tablet again. He went through a list of names before looking back up at you. “There’s no Barnes for tonight.”

You felt Bucky flinching next to you. “Yes there is, I called last last week to move our reservation to this Friday night,” he said, “maybe try under Bucky.”

“Bucky?” the quirking of his brow made you want to make him swallow his iPad.

“Yes, Bucky. I booked a table a month ago but had to reschedule a few times,” Bucky explained, remaining strangely calm for someone facing such a arrogant man. This exchange lasted for a couple minutes, Bucky trying to keep his composure and the man definitely looking unimpressed, until the waiter realized the reservation had been made on the 7th next month, and not tonight.

The restaurant being absolutely packed tonight, there was no way they could make an exception and Bucky had difficulties hiding his disappointment as you walked out of the restaurant. “I’m so sorry, doll. I can assure you I did say tonight and not next month,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he leaned against the wall.

You smiled softly at him, “it’s okay, mistakes happen. And if it’s him you had on the phone I wouldn’t be surprised he did it, I never saw someone so incompetent before,” you chuckled, making Bucky’s lips curve up into a smile. “And that way we know what we’re doing next month on the 7th,” you said shyly, starting to play with your fingers. What had gotten into you? Were you flirting?

Bucky’s smile widened so much, you swore it reached one ear to another. You wanted to see him again! He felt excitement bubbling in his stomach to the thought of it. Until he realized it meant postponing the date. Again. No, that couldn’t happen. He had been waited for too long to take you out, tonight couldn’t end already. “Um, do you want us to find another restaurant? Unless… You want me to bring you back home of course.”

Your eyed went wide, “you wanna cancel tonight?” the sheer disappointment lingering in your voice cutting so deep into his chest, he didn’t have time to celebrate.

“What? Oh, no no! Of course not! It’s just that I promised you that restaurant and I didn’t know if you’d still want to spend some time with me,” he said quickly, mentallh kicking himself for being so bad at interacting with you. But he had been waiting for this for so long, he was petrified to the thought of fucking everything up.

“Oh,” you smiled softly, your hand twitching to take Bucky’s so he would relax. His anxiety wasn’t good for your anxiety, but you couldn’t deny you liked the idea of making him nervous. “I know this place.”

His entire demeanor changed when he looked down and saw you extending your hand in his direction. Of course he did not waste a second before sliding it in yours, relishing in how soft and delicate your hand felt. The warmth of your skin slowly creeping up his arm, tickling every single nerve in the process. “Now where to?”

You both walked a couple blocks down, trying to warn Bucky not to expect anything big or fancy but he knew that, as long as he held your hand, he’d follow you anywhere. You had rapidly fell into another conversation until you led him to Central Park. You loved coming here in the evening, the joggers and families were replaced by friends celebrating the end of the week or, like you, couples mindlessly strolling along the park.

When you approached the food truck you had in mind, Bucky’s lips curved into the widest smile. It was indeed nothing fancy, but that food truck served the best pizza you had in your life. It was a very popular place to eat at when you were in high school, everybody knew about it.

Bucky could still remember that Friday night of senior year when pretty everybody came here to celebrate the end of exams. You were here too, hanging with your friends, laughing heartily before biting in your pizza. Bucky could still remember the moment you turned your gaze in his direction and your eyes met. For the first time, Bucky didn’t look away when you caught him staring, and for the first time, you didn’t pretend you hadn’t seen anything.

Because that night would be the last time you’d see each other, you knew it. High school was over, you were about to leave for college, he was going to go into that art school and you would both follow different paths. So, for the first time, Bucky waved at you, offering you a wide smile to which you answered with a sincere nod. That night you had said goodnight.

But here you were, about ten years later, about to share that same food, like old friend about to become a little more, or at least you both hoped. “I’m so mad at myself for not having thought of that,” Bucky chuckled as you waited in line behind a small group of people.

You grinned proudly because he remembered, you knew he did. “Your idea was way more impressive, though. But see it as we’re most fancy looking people around tonight.”

Bucky laughed softly, tucking a hair strand that had escaped his bun, “whether it’s here or there, I’m still lucky enough to be with the most beautiful girl, though.” His heart nearly gave out when he realized what he had just said and it took everything in him not to run away.

You didn’t know if it was the sincerity dripping from his words or how flustered he looked from having had the courage to actually say these words, but you felt your heart growing warm in your chest, about as warm as your cheeks. You bit your lip to refrain yourself from smiling too wide and nervously started to tug on the hem of your dress, looking for something not to stupid to answer.

But as you opened your mouth, nothing but a surprised gasp escaped you when you saw the person in front of you turning around and tripping, resulting in spilling his can of soda right across your dress. Bucky had the reflex to leap in your direction and pull you against him to keep the guy or the greasy pizza box to fall on you.

It all happened too fast, it was only when your nose was against his chest that you realized what had happened. With his strong hold around you and the smell of his cologne gently tickling your nostrils, your brain went numb. “Are you okay?” Bucky asked, keeping his arm around you for as long as you allow him.

You nodded, his voice slowly bringing you out of your daze before you pulled away, you didn’t want to ruin his clothes as well. “More fear than harm, thank you,” you chuckled nervously before looking down at your dress. You were happy that Bucky got to see you at least once in it because now it was ruined for sure. Embarrassment started growing in your system.

When Bucky was sure you were okay, he helped up the other guy who cheered when he realized his pizza box was intact. But after a cold glare from the brunet, the stranger apologized and gave you his number for you to send him the dry cleaning bill, no matter how many times you had said it wasn’t necessary.

After the entire incident was over and the man had left with his friends, Bucky placed his hand on the small of your back, “I’m sorry about that, are you okay?” the concern lingering in his voice made it impossible for you not to smile. Maybe it also had to do with his warmth seeping through the thin fabric separating your skins.

“Of course I am, it’s just a little soda on a dress I’ll never wear again anyway,” you chuckled, “but thank you again.” The wide smile he shot your way made you slightly weak in the knees and you thanked the pizzaiolo for calling you or you would have stared into his eyes until kingdom come.

After ordering your pizzas, you and Bucky looked for a nice spot on the grass and you nearly cried in relief at the prospect to finally take off your heels. You were going to stab Natasha in the eyes with her damn shoes when you were going home. “Here?” Bucky asked when he found a secluded spot that had a nicest view of the lake.

“It’s perfect,“ you smile, not hearing Bucky’s sigh of relief, this date would finally start to go well. He extended his free hand to help you walk on the grass. After quickly taking off your shoes, which made him chuckle, you gladly took his hand, not missing the delightful jolt popping up your spine at the contact.

Bucky unwillingly let go of your hand to place his jacket on the grass when you reached the perfect spot, the one that allowed you to see the Sun slowly disappearing behind the skyscrapers, the orange and pink shades of the sky reflecting in the water. It was more than perfect. You sat on one end of the jacket, watching Bucky put down the pizza boxes and drinks before sitting on the grass.

“What are you doing?”

His utterly confused blue eyes shot up in your direction at your question, “um, I don’t quite know?”You couldn’t suppressed the soft chuckle that ran past your lips before you pat the spot next to you. “Oh, I just don’t want you to mess your dress even more, I’m fine with the grass!”

You tried hiding how flustered you were from his thoughtfulness but it was lost caused. “Come on,” you pat the spot again, “or I’ll have to sit on the grass with you and my dress will be even more ruined.”

“That’s low, even for you,” Bucky chuckled heartily before scooting over so he was sitting next to you, causing you to relax when your bodies touch. You shrugged and playfully bumped your shoulder against his, relishing in his warmth and how comfortable you were feeling around him at this moment.

Dinner went smoothly, you shared both pizzas, laughing as you exchanged high school memories. It was just like chatting with an old friend, even if you never had had the guts to share a single word back then. The night had just fallen on New York, wrapping you both in a warm and dark embrace thanks to the late summer temperatures.

“You’re such a dork,” you chuckled after Bucky told you about that time a kid had asked him about his tattoos and he had told him he was born with them. He laughed along with you, the sound of your laughters soothing his erratic heartbeat. Along the night, you had slowly relaxed more and more, leaning a little closer to him and causing him to lose himself in your entire aura.

You shook your head affectionately, feeling his gaze on you and, even if the darkness surrounding you allowed you to relax more easily, you looked up at the sky. A soft smile tugged at your lips when you noticed all the stars were out and visible tonight, witnessing this perfect night as well.

“Look, it’s so beautiful,” you whispered, not having seen such a beautiful sky in a very long time.

Bucky smiled, his eyes roaming your face as much as the darkness allowed him in the most delicate way. He hummed, “absolutely magnificent.” The softness of his tone made a shiver run up your spine and you looked at him, wanting to see his features when he admired the sky. But he wasn’t looking at the sky. He was looking at you.

Your heart beat out of your chest when you saw nothing but adoration shining in his blue orbs. “Really?” you whispered, unable to hold back the smile that crept up your lips. He nodded.

“Breathtaking,” he answered with the same tone. When he noticed you didn’t shy away, Bucky gathered all his courage to lean a little closer, his heart thudding in his chest even harder when you also leaned in his direction.

You felt every single nerve of your body tickling in anticipation when his breath gently brushed over your lips, allowing you to almost taste him on your tongue. For a second, you felt as if there was nothing but you and the stars in the entire world. You and Bucky’s lips tauntingly brushing yours. You both stopped for a second, savoring this moment that you know would be living with you for a very long time.

You both chuckled breathlessly, lips merely a hair breadth away when a clicking noise caught both your attention and, before neither of you could react, the sprinklers went off. “Oh my god!” Bucky gasped when you pulled away, instinctively trying to cover your head from the ice cold water.

“What the fuck?!” you shrieked, scrambling onto your feet and nearly slipping on the wet grass. Bucky’s reflex were as fast as usual and he caught you by the waist before quickly grabbing your shoes and his jacket and leading you to the alley where you’d be safe from the cold water. “Fuck, thank you,” you chuckled but when you turned around you were met with thin air.

You heard Bucky muttering under his breath and less than a second later he appeared before you again, drenched. “We couldn’t leave that here,” he explained, presenting the empty boxes and cans of soda. You chuckled heartily at his thoughtfulness and nodded.

“That would have been rude, indeed.” And, just like that, the previous magic moment had disappeared. You tried to ignore how heavy your heart fell in your chest and, after putting on your shoes again despite your screaming feet, you helped him throw everything in the bin trash before extending his jacket in his direction.

“Don’t worry about your jacket, it’s pretty dry since we were sitting on it,” you chuckled, realizing now just how cold you were when the breeze brushed over your wet skin. Bucky simply thanked you and took the piece of clothing before gently placing it on your shoulders, frictioning your arms to keep you warm.

Your heart melt at the gesture and his proximity, the warmth spreading inside your system making you smile softly. “But you’re gonna be cold, you’re completely drenched,” you chuckled, struggling with all your might not to bury your face in his neck and wrap your arms around him.

“I don’t care,” he smiled, slowing his motion before his left hand reached for your right one, “let’s bring you home before you get sick.” You nodded, intertwining your fingers together and leaning against his arm and gently placing your free hand on his bicep, officially to keep you both warm but you couldn’t deny he was really pleasant to touch too.

The walk home was rather silent, the comfortable kind of silence as you both processed the chaotic night that just happened, grasping onto each other’s warmth and presence while it lasted. Tonight had been a roller coaster, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong, but you couldn’t help but admire Bucky’s complete control of himself the entire time.

You had met guys who would have had yelled at the waiter, insulted the man who tripped and spilled the drink on you, or worst, not even, care that the said man didn’t apologize at first. But Bucky had kept his calm and, even if he was embarrassed or annoyed, he had always made sure you were okay, if you wanted to go home, if you were cold. He wanted this night to be so perfect, he was after you all and every needs.

As you arrived right in front of your building, you chuckled softly, catching Bucky’s attention and causing a shiver to run up his spine. “What’s so funny?” he asked, the usual smile he had when he was looking at you plastered onto his lips. His question caused you to laugh harder and you pressed your face into his arm. He swore it was the most beautiful thing he ever witnessed in his entire life. “Come ooooon, are you making fun of me?” he whined, gently squeezing your fingers.

You shook your head no before looking up at him. His hair was probably as messy as yours, strands falling free from his bun and gently framing his face. Your heart grew too big on your chest at the playfulness in his eyes. “I’m not, I was just thinking about how this was the best date I ever went to,” you said softly, wrapping your arm tighter around his.

Bucky’s heart leaped out of his throat at your words and the adorating way you were looking at him. “It was?” the surprise in his tone was only highlighted by how wide his eyes opened. You hummed, nodding softly. “But it was a disaster, I mean, look at your dress,” he argued, unable to keep himself from smiling at the amused look on your face.

“So?” you shrugged, “you still had planned dinner in a wonderful place, defended me when a guy was rude enough not to apologize when he ruined my dress, kept me from being attacked by a pizza, saved me from ice cold sprinklers and made sure I was warm.” You started laughing halfways through your enumeration. “God it has been chaotic and if I had been with anybody else I would have probably asked you to bring me home right after the restaurant disaster, but you made this night special, memorable and definitely the best I ever had.”

Bucky’s cheeks started warming up in synch with the spreading of his lips, he couldn’t help but chuckle when you enumerated everything that had gone wrong and how much you appreciated his reactions to each of these events. “I just wanted to take you out for so so long, I wanted tonight to be perfect,” he explained, his heart singing a sweet melody because, despite everything, you had a good night with him.

“There’s just one thing missing for it to be perfect, James,” you said before biting your bottom lip not to laugh at the confusion on his features you had just said it was perfect and now it wasn’t?

“What is it?” he inquired, almost eagerly to have you pronounce his first name again in addition to truly make this night perfect for you.

You suddenly felt your courage slipping through your fingers, you couldn’t possibly ask him to kiss you like he almost did at the park. So instead, you took a deep breath and close your eyes before letting go of his arm. You right hand still tangled with his left one, you place your free hand on his cheek and lifted your head enough so your lips were brushing like they had been before.

Bucky’s breathing hitched and he almost growled when you stopped so close yet so far. “You sure?” he whispered, knowing one single word from you and he’d literally sweep you off your feet. You nodded, causing your nose to gently bump against his and the soft giggle that fell off your lips caused his heart to burst out of his chest.

When he closed the minimal distance between your lips, he swore his entire body caught fire. Maybe it was the softness of your lips against his, maybe it was the whimper that escaped you, maybe it was how you immediately responded to the kiss or even how it felt to place his free hand on your hip before pulling you impossibly close to him, but Bucky’s body combusted with a simple kiss from you.

It was soft, he could feel you smile against his lips, he could feel his heart fluttering in his chest and your warmth spreading through your wet clothes. It was perfect. It was your soft giggle that caused him to part, gently kissing the corner of your lips and your cheek. “Are you still making fun of me after that?” he teased, wrapping his arm around you, causing you to giggle harder.

“I would never, especially not after that! I’m just happy,” you whispered, kissing every single inch of his face you could reach from that angle. Bucky pulled away, causing you to whine at the loss of his skin against you lips and he chuckled softly, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Me too,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours, his heart beating so fast he thought it might burst any second now. But with you in his arms, he knew his heart didn’t belong in his chest anymore, it belonged in your hands.


	3. Class

As surprising as it was for you, dating Bucky turned out to be like a gentle ballad that lulled your everyday life into this gentle rhythm and wrapped you up in a comforting embrace. Without you even noticing it, you naturally made room into your daily routine for extended lunch breaks at the tattoo shop when you both had free time and cuddles sessions on the couch while watching TV at the end of the day.

Bucky had somehow managed to make himself a permanent fixture in your life and neither of you condescended to fight it. Between your students you taught in high school but also at uni and Bucky’s long tattoo session to which he often had accounting to add too, you both desperately needed your Friday night dates and long walks across the city after one of you picked up the other one from work. It was soothing, a nice breath of fresh air that made even the toughest days seem like a vacation.

It was one of those days when you had asked him to come explain his job to your class. You were walking in Central Park, the early fall weather still nice enough for you to skip a few subway stations and stroll along your favorite place. With his fingers intertwined in yours, Bucky had told you about this amazing piece he wanted to work on, a girl who just beat cancer and who wanted a tattoo to cover the scar that was now running across her torso. Along with classic tattoos, Bucky had rapidly made himself known for working on scars, whatever they were.

Once, your classes got canceled and you knew it was a quiet day at the shop so you had decided to pay the guys a little visit. As Bucky was trying to set the schedule for the upcoming weeks, you took your time admiring the photographs on the walls from up close. When a picture caught your attention, you asked Bucky what it was and he told you the story of that guy who survived a car accident, and this girl who was stabbed several times by her ex boyfriend, or even that lady that came back from the war without her arm. Her shoulder was now sporting the most delicate flowers all the way down to the side of her ribcage, encircling the missing limb.

Bucky’s entire face lit up as he told you all of these amazing people’s stories, calling them inspiring. “The day I tattooed my first scarred person, I was petrified because I knew just how important it was for her to accept her body and that event as a part of her and her story. But the moment I cleaned the tattoo and she got to see the result for the first time, I knew I had chosen the perfect job. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the tattoos I’ve created, but these ones are special and I think I finally found a way to combine art and purpose.”

You couldn’t help the tears that had filled your eyes as you listened to him. Beyond the moving stories, it was Bucky’s genuine and utter investment in these strangers’ stories that touched you. He was incredibly proud to have played the tiniest part in their stories, to help them through his art just like it helped him accepting his own flaws.

“Would you ever consider coming to talk about your job to my classes?” you were both equally as surprised by your request but you knew your students would love to hear about Bucky’s talent.

“Are you sure about that, doll?” he asked, gently bringing you against his side when a jogger ran in your direction, looking like he would much rather bump into you than actually deviate his trajectory a little bit on his right.

You automatically wrap your arm around his waist and nodded, “certain. Come on, you’re a tattoo artist! Don’t you remember how tattoos were already cool at that age? And you went to the same high school as them, you’ll be like a Rockstar!” you grinned at him, causing Bucky to chuckle softly.

“I remember other things about high school, and I’m currently holding my favorite one in my arms” he said, giving you a gaze so soft you felt it brush your skin like a feather.

“Hey, don’t try making me lose my track of thoughts with your smooth ways, Barnes!” you whined, pinching his side. The brunet laughed heartily, squirming against you before gently cradling your jaw and squeezing your cheeks together.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss to your pouty lip to which you couldn’t help but giggle. “I’ll think about it okay?”

And that was how a couple weeks later, you picked up Bucky at his place before you made your way to the high school you both used to go to and where you were teaching now. Teaching that same art class you had taken for three whole years, sitting next to him every single day of the week without daring saying more that “hi” on the days you felt brave enough.

When you opened your classroom door, the familiar scents of paints and drawing pencils tickled Bucky’s nostrils, making his heart clench in his chest in nostalgia. The brunet had hated high-school to his core. He had hated everything from the teachers to the weird looks he got from his fellow students. But, God, did he loved these art classes.

He walked in behind you and, as you placed your stuff on the wide desk, he found himself immediately walking in direction of the desk you and him used to share. A soft smile tugged at his lips when his fingers came in contact with the wooden surface. It was even more worn out now than it used to be back then but, somehow, it felt the same.

“I remember the first class we had here,” his voice was filled with nostalgia as you walked up to him.

You chuckled softly and sat on that chair you had sat on so many times. “You do?”

Bucky mimicked you and sat down on his old chair, looking at you with all the adoration in the world in his eyes as he hummed. “Yeah. I arrived here early to pick my desk freely, one away enough from the board so the teacher wouldn’t always look at me but not away enough so it looks suspicious.”

A soft chuckle fell off your lips. Typical student tactic. He started staring into space before continuing. “And when the class started to fill more and more I realized I would probably have to share my desk with someone and, to be honest, I panicked. Because I was terrorized to be next to someone who’d be looking at me with either pity or disgust. I tried to avoid looking at them so they’d find me weird and not want to sit next to me. And it worked. The teacher came in and I was still alone. When I finally started to relax, a gentle knock on the door caught everybody’s attention.”

You smiled at the memory. You had gotten lost in the corridors and desperately tried to apologize to the teacher but your voice was so low, she didn’t hear you and gestured for you to pick a seat. There wasn’t any empty desk available for you only but a couple seats here and there next to other people remained and, without thinking, you walked to Bucky.

“I think you asked me if you could take the seat but I’m not sure, it was audible.” You both chuckled and he looked up at you, like he did that day before gently nodding. Your brain had shortcut when your eye met his steel-blue gaze and you had stuttered a thank you before sitting down.

“You were wearing that blue dress, the one with the flowers,” by the way he smiled at you, you knew the image still lingered in his brain.

Your mouth fell open and you couldn’t suppress a heartfelt laughter. “Oh my god, you remember that?”

Bucky’s laughter joined yours and he nodded eagerly, “I do because it was the moment I started to wonder if I should really keep pushing people away.” Your laughter slowly died down and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide at the sheer softness radiating off his feature as he replayed your first meeting in his mind.

You gently intertwined your fingers with his before kissing the back of his left hand. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the contact of his skin against your lips, the feeling so warm and comforting it never failed to make a spark ignite in your lower stomach. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling when you looked at Bucky, it was even a very problematic issue because the most mundane thing he did affected you.

Seeing him drawing, his hand dancing on the paper and making the muscles of his forearm gracefully move, when he stretched, allowing you to get a little peek of his toned lower stomach, when his tongue moved lazily against yours while his body melted in yours and his hands wanders on your sides, a little adventurously but never too much, in fear to startle you. It had been weeks since your first kiss and you could easily say that you craved his body more and more with each day that passed. Actually, you craved it as much as your fear to give yourself to him slowly disappeared.

It had been an implied deal that you two would take it slow, discover each other before taking the next big step. But as you looked at him right now, you two sitting at the exact same spot you used to when you first met, you realized you were ready. “We took our time, ten years ago, but if it means we’d still find each other again like we are right now, I’d do it all over again in the blink of an eye,” you whispered.

You swore you saw Bucky’s eyes welling up with tears at your words, right before he pressed his lips against you in the most gentle yet breathtaking way. “I’m currently kissing my girl at the exact same spot we met, I’m currently living my dream,” he mumbles against your lips and you found yourself giggling, leaning better against him to wrap your arms around his neck as your heart grew two sizes too big in your chest. 

“Smooth talker,” you grinned against his lips, swallowing the low chuckle coming from the back of his neck. It was the bell that managed to tear your lips apart. The sudden panicked look displayed on Bucky’s features made you giggle. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna be perfect, they’re gonna love you,” you assured him, smoothing down his shirt and tucking a hair strand behind his ear, already knowing he’d have the students wrapped around his finger in no time.

And true enough, your students fell hard and fast for your boyfriend. You immediately noticed how every girls’ eyes lit up when they noticed the very nice looking man next to you. With the short sleeved t-shirt he was wearing, everybody’s attention was drawn to Bucky’s tattoo and you couldn’t even hide your satisfaction when they all smiled in content at the announcement of today’s presentation.

Bucky was nervous, you could sense it so you never forgot to shoot him a reassuring smile when he glanced in your direction. Not to startle him, you took the stage first. As you explained who Bucky was and how art could take various forms, Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes from you.

When you were teaching, you looked completely different. Your usual timidity almost vanishing completely as your face lit up. Passion, confidence, excitement and your usual kindness managed to hook the students from the second you opened mouth. The youngsters were hanging to each word your spoke, or at least Bucky supposed. Because, right at this instant, he was the one hanging to your lips. He simply couldn’t look away from you. As if hypnotized, a dazed smile clang to his lips while he listened to you.

His trance certainly did not go unnoticed by the students because it didn’t take more than ten minutes to hear whispers and see some of the girls nudging each other before discreetly pointing in Bucky’s direction and giggle. The sudden agitation made your cheeks burn and you suddenly clapped your hands, catching everybody’s attention, including Bucky’s who was violotenly pulled out from his reverie. “So I think we’re ready for Bucky’s intervention, aren’t we?” you smiled wide to the class, earning a general eager nod from the audience.

Staying close to him for reassurance, Bucky, who begged you not to have the students calling him “Mr. Barnes” shyly took the stage. The first couple minutes were rather rocky but to be completely fair, I was way better than the first time you had to talk in front of a class. Every time Bucky stuttered, his eyes would immediately start looking for yours and the gentle smile you offered him would instantly ease his nerve.

In under an hour, Bucky managed to explain his path from high school to the tattoo shop opening, as well as the tattoo process but you had to admit your favorite part was when he explained how he tried to help people through his art. The obvious interest in your students’ eyes would have made you jealous if you weren’t so invested in his telling too.

After a few questions the bell rang, causing the entire class to groan in annoyance. You noticed a couple students trying to grasp an extra few minutes with you but you nicely reminded them that they had algebra now.

“I can’t believe they made me promise you’d come back so they would go to their next class,” you chuckled, rearranging the chairs as Bucky assisted you in your task. “I told you they’d love you.

“Well I quite like them too,” Bucky grinned at you, gently wrapping his arm around your waist and placing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder, causing you to giggle at the tickling feeling. “But not as much as I like their sexy teacher,” he mumbled against your skin.

Your breathing got caught in your throat and you felt your entire body catching fire. “James,” you sighed out a little too weakly to your liking as you instinctively tilted your head to allow him better access. You felt his lips curling up as he pressed a kiss a little higher, humming to indicate you had his attention.

The sound echoed deep inside of you, causing the gentle simmer that had been sitting in the pit of your stomach for weeks to start boiling again. “Not here,” you whined, frustration making you want to squirm away from him but his warm chest against your back made it impossible for you to willingly pull away.

The low chuckle that rambled through his chest sent a jolt popping up your spine. He pulled away, almost tearing a miserable whimper from you that didn’t go unnoticed by him and he offered you a cheeky grin. “So, when does my second audience arrives?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just turned you on right in the middle of your classroom. You huffed in answer, this was going to be a long day. But thankfully enough, today was Friday and Natasha wouldn’t be home tonight.


	4. Big Step

After walking down memory lane a little longer in the school corridor, you both headed towards your date. Bucky was ecstatic about the day he had spent with you and now he understood why you loved your job. Because he had loved exchanging with your students about art. He went on and on until you reached your favorite food truck and ordered your usual pizza.

As you laid in the grass, still checking the time so the sprinklers would not catch you off guard again, you managed to convince Bucky to come exchanging with your students again, maybe show the them some projects he had been working on and the equipment he used to tattoo people.

Seeing him in your own world today was not something you thought would make you fall harder for him, yet, here you were. Art had always had a special spot in your life, and today you shared that spot with Bucky. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have quiet Sunday afternoons drawing in his apartment or even in the park. You didn’t even need to talk to share the beauty of those moment. It was just you, him, pens, brushes and whatever was playing in your mind of before your eyes.

Sometimes you’d stretch your back and look at him, his brows draws together in deep focus and you would discreetly snap a picture before kissing his shoulder through his shirt. When you would rest your head here, Bucky would press his lips to the top of your head before resting his cheek there, his hand still dancing on the paper. It was soothing, the sound of the pen gently scraping the paper combined with Bucky’s comforting smell and his low voice as he explained his project always made your heartbeat slow down and your entire body relax.

It was his lips pressed to your forehead that brought you out of your thoughts, “let’s get some ice-cream before the shop closes.” The way your eyes lit up at the mention of ice-cream made Bucky laugh heartily and he gently helped you up on your feet. After a round of your favorite treat, and a few spoonful stolen from his, you and Bucky walked to your apartment, hand in hand.

The weather had considerably cooled down since you both started dating, making your outside dates occurring less and less often, but it also gave you more opportunities to snuggle against his side, to Bucky’s greatest pleasure. “I’m so happy tomorrow is Saturday,” you sighed in content at the prospect of sleeping in a little, the thought of eventually waking up next to him made your stomach flutter.

Bucky chuckled, “I know what you mean, I’m happy Saturday is one of those days we open later in the morning.” As he held you against him, Bucky couldn’t help but feel like today you both took a big step in your relationship, you showed him the world you evolved in when he wasn’t around and he had to admit, you had made two impossible things: helped him make peace with high school and made him fall a little harder with you.

Being reunited with you in this classroom made him realize that he might had it bad back then, but today, he loved you. Yes, Bucky was in love with you and he secretly hoped that you would allow him to share a life together because there was no one else, never has been, never will be. There was only you.

“Do you want to spend the night here?” your voice was barely audible yet it snapped him out of his transe. Your former shyness that he hadn’t seen in weeks indicating him that your invitation had nothing to do with the many times he had ended up crashing at your place because you both fell asleep before the end of the movie or when he had had a little too much to drink to drive back after Nat’s birthday. You wanted him in your bed, with you.

Bucky’s heart started to beat a little faster in his chest, anticipation making his palms grow sweaty. He cleared his throat, a bashful smile creeping up his lips, “um, sure,” he chuckled nervously, causing your lips to curl up into a wide smile.

The elevator ride had never seemed so slow before. You felt your nervousness growing as the it pulled you higher up. When you tried to open your door, you were so aware of Bucky’s body heat and general presence, you fidgetted a little too long with the keys. You tried your hardest not to let your anticipation show but Bucky was too stressed himself to really notice your unease.

When you stepped inside and were met with darkness and silence, he knew Nat wasn’t home and he felt his blood starting to boil in his veins. Tonight was the night. He carefully closed the door behind him as you placed your keys and purse on the table like you always did.

You offered him a drink that he politely declined even if he desperately needed it. He always wanted to be aware and himself when he was with you but particularly tonight. You ended both awkwardly standing there for a minute, not really knowing what to do with yourself. Bucky wasn’t your first, you obviously weren’t his either but you both had been craving each other’s presence for so long, you somehow never thought this far ahead because neither of you ever dared dreaming this step would ever come. And right now, as the tension grew thicker around you, you felt like you were both 15 years old again.

It was him who took the first step and very gently took your wrist to pull you close to him. You let yourself melt against his form, your hands on his chest and his slowly traveled down the side of your body. You could feel the erratic chase of his heartbeat against your palm, the pace about as hectic as yours.

Goosebumps arose on your skin, running after his hands in a desperate attempt to catch up with the soft touch that made your blouse feel infinitely thin, trapped between your skin and his. The soft sigh that fell of your lips echoed loudly in his ears, causing a shiver to roll down his spine. No words were exchanged, they were not needed, your eyes reflected everything Bucky needed to know.

So, ever so slow, he leaned his face in your direction, his heart pounding in his chest when you tilted your head to meet him halfway. You did not know if it was how gently he had pressed his lips to yours or how carefully he was holding you, but you felt your head spinning and could not control the miserable whimper that escaped you.

The appreciative growl coming from Bucky was accompanied with a tightening of his hold on you, the possessiveness only growing with the intensifying of the kiss. It didn’t take long for you to start lacking air, preferring Bucky’s moans to oxygen. Your hands travelled up to the back of his neck as his moved lower to grab the back of your thighs and lift you up from the ground with an almost annoying ease.

Bucky had came here often enough to navigate through your apartment to your room with his eyes closed. You couldn’t stop holding onto you, even after he had gently laid you on your bed. The thought of not having him close to you made your heart sink down in your stomach.

His hair was a tangled mess under your fingers but the deep growl that erupted from his chest every time you accidentally tugged on the locks had your entire body buzzing in anticipation. The lascivious strokes of his tongue against yours, with the sweet taste of pecan caramel ice-cream that lingered on his; the sultry chase of his hands on the side of your body, discovering you painfully slow; his comforting weight on top of you; his rough stubble deliciously clashing with the softness of his lips, all your senses were absolutely saturated, yet you still couldn’t have enough of him to your liking. 

Your entire body was already quivering, causing Bucky to pull away from you lips and look at you, almost concerned. But God, you never looked more beautiful than you did right now, your eyes hooded with desire and your lips swollen from his hungry kisses. He took a second to admire you. “Are you sure?” he whispered, already panting from the adrenaline rushing in his system. His heart was beating in his ears and he only realized now that it was him he had felt trembling in lust.

You nodded eagerly, slowly untangling your fingers from his hair to cradle his jaw. “I’m sure, James. I’m yours.” Your breathless murmure echoed in the room, against the walls and furnitures, but they did not echo as loud as they did in his heart. This, right now, you looking so beautifully dishevelled underneath his heated body, it was a promise. And Bucky could have cried from the adoration shining in your eyes.

He felt his throat tightening from the overwhelming amount of emotion he felt surrounding you and adding to the thick, lust filled air in the room. Never in his life Bucky had felt so privileged before. He felt absolutely invincible and, feeling his smile growing too big for his face, he crashed his lips against yours. “Mine,” he choked out, the sounds quickly turning into a growl, “and I’m yours.”

He hungrily swallowed the whimper that fell off your lips, savoring the taste of your surrendering to each other before his lips crept down your neck. Gently, carefully, thoroughly, Bucky’s lips tasted every single inch of your skin, his hands everywhere his lips were not like he was discovering a blank canvas he wanted to paint.

Clothes were gradually discarded, both of you taking the time to evaluate the other’s reaction and ease when more skin was revealed to the eye. But the appreciation displayed on Bucky’s feature was so evident, you felt yourself growing more confident.

Bucky’s lips traveled on your skin again, trying to look for the spots that has his name fall from your lips in the most desperate, delicate, sinful way he had ever heard. The sight you provided him when you abandoned yourself to pleasure, to him, he knew he would spend his entire life trying to capture it on paper, worshipping you for hours, days, weeks if he had to because never in the many hours he had spent in the museum in his life, he had ever seen something so beautiful and poetic.

Your thigh, your hips, intertwined with yours, his hands danced on your body like they did on paper, shyly at first, but expertedly once he knew his subject. The same focused frown was settled between his brows as he held your hands on each sides of your face, his body sliding against yours and completely immersing himself in the sinful sound filling the room. If he closed his eyes, he knew he would see colors humankind had yet to discover. But why close his eyes when you were here, providing him the most spectacular art show?

With your body trembling underneath his as you abandoned yourself again, and again, and again, Bucky buried his face in your neck. Listening to the glorious praise you whispered in his ear, your fingers squeezing his encouragingly, he finally surrendered himself in a low, guttural moan that had your entire body quiver again before he carefully let himself fall against your form.

Tangled into each other, finally having caught your breath again, Bucky’s finger were gently tracing the patterned he had inked on your skin a few months ago and you felt your eyelids growing heavier by the minute. “If I knew it would have led me here, I would have lost that bet to Nat a long time ago,” you hummed, tilting your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck. The low chuckle rumbling from his chest had a lazy smile creeping up your lips.

Bucky’s arm traveled down the side of your body until he could wrap it around you, flushing your warm and naked form against his. He almost purred to the sensation before pressing his lips to your forehead, “it was all about timing.” He mumbled against the crown of your hair, smiling to himself when he realized he completely had you under his skin.


	5. Art therapy

“Take off your shirt.”

Bucky quirked a teasing brow at your demand, his lips curling into that playful smirk that always had you weak in the knees. “Oh quit it, James,” you huffed, smacking the back of your hand against his chest. He let out a heartfelt laughter as he wrapped his arm tighter around you.

The two of you had enjoyed the laziest Sunday morning in bed before Bucky treated you to your favorite brunch place. At first you had wanted to walk around the city but the brisk temperatures of December had made you change up your mind and you decided to go back to his place instead.

Covered in various notebooks, small canvas, paint, pens, pretty much everything art related that you both owned; his coffee table was the perfect witness of your activities. Since early November, you had switched your usual lazy afternoons sketching in the park for lazy afternoon sketching on his couch while binge watching whatever show on Netflix everybody was ranting about.

However, you had to admit that the privacy of his home often made you both forget all about your initial goal that was drawing for something else that included heavy make out sessions amongst other things that included less clothes. Curled up against him, your arm across his torso while he held you secured to his side and his hand sprawled on your butt, the TV show had been long forgotten since his lips had started moving lazily against yours.

Taking “the big step” with Bucky had somehow made almost all your respective shyness flying off the window. You had you admit you still were not 100% comfortable with being fully naked in front of him unless you were both in that familiar post-bliss state and he was covering your body with the softest touch you had ever received. And you noticed Bucky still flinched from time to times when you mindlessly ran your fingers up and down his left arm when you were watching TV, nothing too big because, after a few seconds, he relaxed again.

You both knew that you didn’t just physically gave in to each other that night, you had both touched and danced with the other’s soul. Discovering each other’s body, hunting for these spots that would have you both trembling, your gasps to turn breathless. Slow at first until the urge for a release was just too strong again. And again. And again.

Weeks later, you knew you could now trace each other’s body with your eyes closed, with your hands, lips, tongue, you knew each other by heart and right now you needed to try something new.

“I’m sorry but I need a little more than a simple ‘take off your shirt’, doll,” Bucky teased, a playful glint in his beautiful eyes.

You snorted an ungrateful laugh and it was now your turn to quirk your brow at him. “Since when do you need more than that?”

Bucky opened his mouth to gasp in offense but he stopped, taking a second to think about it before pouting and nodding. “Okay you got me there,” he chuckled, bringing you even closer to him even though you didn’t know it was physically possible.

You giggled in his chest, shaking your head affectionately before pulling away and sitting up on your knees. “Come on, please take off your shirt and lay down on your stomach.”

Your smile never faltered from your lips and Bucky knew he could never say no to you when you looked at him like that. That smile had the same effect on his heart as it had on his southern brain, the genuinity behind it, the fact that you only smiled like that to him, it made him want to hold you close as much as have you sighing and quivering in pleasure underneath him.

He leaned to steal a kiss from you like he often did after he had a short absence like he just had and you chuckled, responding to the kiss. “Should I be worried?” he squinted his eyes warily at you but you saw him already reaching for the hem of his shirt.

You smirked and winked, “only one way to know, I guess?”

He hummed, giving you a suspicious look before eventually complying. You felt your heart leaping in your throat when his muscular chest appeared before you and you had a suppress an appreciative groan. God he looked like he was straight out of the workshop of an Ancient Greek sculptor. Absolute perfection. And this was a very unbiased art teacher opinion, of course. A strictly professional and objective eye.

The look you gave Bucky never failed to make his entire body warm up from the inside. He could have felt overexposed under your insistent gaze, yet it was such a soft and appreciative look, it made him actually feel good about himself. When you looked at him he didn’t want to disappear anymore. He was now addicted to your eyes brushing his skin ever so gently, loving the arising trail of goosebumps running after your gaze as you mapped him out.

Bucky leaned to peck your lips again, causing you to slightly jump in surprise from being brought out if your daydream. He chuckled against your lips, pressed them harder against yours when you tried to pull away. “Dork,” you giggled, gently pushing him away and motioning him to lie down as you stood up to leave room for his legs.

“Are you going to give me a massage?” his voice was muffled by the cushion he had pressed against his face. He frowned in confusion when he heard the coffee table being dragged on the floor but before he could react, he felt the couch dipping and your familiar weight on his butt. He raised his head to look at you over his shoulder and an heartfelt chuckle fell from his lips when you offered him a toothy grin, holding a pencil brush in your hand. “Don’t you dare tickle me with that!” he warned you, unable to keep from smiling.

“Then behave,” you retaliated in between laughters, accusingly pointing the brush at him. He feigned terror but eventually complied, pressing his face in the cushion again but the way his shoulder shook indicated he was still laughing.

You chuckled softly as you placed the brush between your teeth and grabbed his wrist to take the hair tie around it. Everybody always asked you if it wasn’t annoying to have your boyfriend stealing your hair ties but how could you know since you were the one always stealing his? You noticed along the weeks that he now always carried two hair ties around his wrist, just in case.

The thought made you smile and you gently gathered Bucky’s long locks to free his neck and shoulders. You didn’t miss the groan of content coming from the back of his throat when your gently scratched your nails along his scalp as your put his hair into a messy bun. You took the brush out of your mouth and leaned to press a kiss right at the junction of his neck and shoulder. His familiar musky scent made your entire body shiver in harmony with his at the contact of your lips. You were not so surprise to feel him placing his hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place.

Bucky tilted his head to allow you more access and he felt your lips curving up into a smile against his skin and you placed another kiss a little higher along his neck. The way his chest rumbled echoed in you, making it difficult for you not to arch your back to melt against his body warmth.

When he turned his face, you nuzzled your nose along his neck and jawline before tracing a trail of butterfly kisses up to his lips. The familiar feeling of his rough scruff deliciously clashing with the softness of his lips made a shiver dance around your spine and your skin tickle. Some parts of your body were still pretty raw from the insistent friction of his facial hair against your delicate skin.

“Stop distracting me,” you giggled against his lips, his hand still secured on the back of your neck. Bucky felt your laughter spreading from your lips to his, crippling through his entire system, making his heart grow too big in his chest and his skin tickle in the process. As an answer, he lifted his head to kiss you even harder, his tongue teasing your bottom lip in the way that never failed to make you give in and he had the audacity to pull away just as he could taste your whimper.

Your chest was heaving when he offered you a proud grin, his hand falling heavily against the couch. You huffed, too much aware of how disheveled you looked at this moment and all because of him. You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide at his smug look and straightened your back, playfully pinching his side. He jerked underneath you, causing your to laugh heartily. “Now behave,” you warned him, not even trying to fight the genuine smile plastered on your lips..

“I am at your mercy,” he sighed dramatically. You rolled your eyes before adjusting yourself to sit comfortably on his butt without actually crushing him. Bucky closed his eyes before taking a deep breathing. The familiar clinking and shifting on the coffee table combined with your general presence was enough to have him relax completely. He loved it when you experienced together. Whether it was on each other’s body or using the other as a subject, nothing could beat the intimacy you both shared during these moments because you stripped your souls naked to the other’s eye. And you had that glint in your eye when you asked him to settle down on the couch, you wanted to experience again.

Despite having expected it, Bucky couldn’t help but hiss when the coldness of the paint came into contact with his warm skin. You chuckled an apology as the wide brush started dancing along his sculptural back, loving the way his skin dipped under the light pressure. “Maybe I should have protected the couch,” you winced when a drop of black paint fell onto the cushion.

“I ruined that couch five years ago anyway,” he hummed, his eyes still closed. You looked at the wide red paint stain on the armrest that the years had managed to fade but not erase.

You nodded even though Bucky couldn’t see it and continued painting along his back, blessing his broad form that gave you lot of space. You also blessed him for not questioning you or stopping you. Neither of you ever kept the other from expressing their art in any way. You wanted to color the blank spaces of his tattoos with neon highlights? Why not? He wanted you to pose for hours? Of course. You wanted to paint his back? Absolutely.

There was something incredibly freeing in being with someone as understanding as Bucky who saw art as a way to exteriorize the unspeakable or turn the bad and the good days into something you would be able to look at later on. You would neither question the other, only comply and play the part he would allow you to play and vice versa.

After an hour of playing with brushes, you put them down and used your fingers to merge the colors together, realizing with the way he hummed that Bucky was not asleep. “Enjoying yourself, babe?” you chuckled, wiping away a rebel lock of hair from your forehead with the back of the hand. You knew he had waited for you to speak before saying anything, not wanting to disrupt your concentration and you could never thank him enough for that. Drawing was already soothing for you but Bucky presence only added to that so drawing on Bucky had had this cathartic effect that helped you completely emptying your mind.

“Mmh mmh, I love it when you use me,” he mumbled.

You snorted a laugh, placing the final touches here and there. “Oh, that I know.” You beamed, grabbing a towel on the coffee table to wipe your hands clean, it will take you days to get rid of that painting underneath your nails, as you admired the result.

The nebula you had painted on Bucky’s back was the perfect mix of black, purple and deep pink, white stars randomly placed here and there forming the perfect harmony. The entire galaxy was playing before your eyes and you were not talking about the painting, but about the loving smile Bucky was shooting at you over his shoulder.


End file.
